


Of Headaches and Pains in the Neck

by LadyLustful



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, Feels, Gen, Headaches & Migraines, Hurt/Comfort, Kenways being Kenways, Snark, herbal medicine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-18 09:31:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11871486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyLustful/pseuds/LadyLustful
Summary: Haytham has a migraine. Connor tries to help.





	Of Headaches and Pains in the Neck

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Assassin_J](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Assassin_J/gifts), [my father](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=my+father).



> 1\. Haytham Kenway looks like he has migraines.  
> 2\. Migraines often run in families.  
> 3\. Migraines can be treated with medicine made entirely from plants by means which were known since ancient times.  
> 4\. 18th century European medicine was probably much less advanced than the traditional Native American medicine was.  
> So, by stretching the facts a bit over what I frankly admit I do not know, this ficlet was born.
> 
> This is dedicated to my Father, who has migraines, as I do, and he is also a stubborn pain in the neck who would rather die than change his mind (I get that from him, to a lesser extent; he tends to be very Haythamy about things, and I love him, but it does not make putting up with him any easier.)

Haytham Kenway's head hurts. That's an understatement, really. It pounds with waves of soul-crushing agony that is almost enough to make him wish he were lying in his grave instead of a room in the Green Dragon. Every movement he makes, sound reaching his ears or sliver of light slipping through shut eyelids feels like a dull blade hammered forcibly into his skull. Which is why it's nice for the Assassin to be as quiet as he is, barely making a sound as he sneaks into the room, walks over to Haytham's bed and stands over it.

“Come to put me out of my misery, lad?”, moans Haytham. “At least you're quiet about it.”

“Hardly. You do not deserve to die like this, in too much pain to defend yourself. What's wrong?”

“My head hurts. Migraine. And how do you think I deserve to die?”

Connor sighs.

“Perhaps I phrased it wrong, father. As much as you annoy and inconvenience me, I would actually prefer you to remain alive.”

And the boy either has the decency not to bother Haytham after that, or he actually manages to pass out from the pain. Next thing he knows, Connor is sitting on the edge of the bed, holding a mug of something steaming and overwhelmingly herbal-smelling.

“Drink this.”

“What's that?”

“Herbs. If what ails you is similar to what sometimes ails me, it should help.”

“How do I know you're not trying to poison me?”

“Don't be ridiculous, father. I would have just stabbed you when I first came in.”

Haytham decides not to argue with that and drinks the concoction, foul as it tastes. And maybe it's a coincidence, but he does soon feel better.

 


End file.
